This collection of stories, starting with the first tale following this chapter, was and still is, lovingly crafted for you all, those of you that do read it, not to give off cheep scares or to simply recycle old stories, although there are plenty of them to be found here, I am sure.
Instead, I wanted to tell the stories that actually frighten, or frightened me at some point in my life.
Growing up, I had been carted all over my state, from Fontana, to Duarte, Back to Fontana, to Tehachapi, then to Oroville, and finally, back to Duarte. Along the way, I had lived a life that I suppose that to some is interesting, to others, mundane. But if there was one fact that can be assured, I loved stories, especially local legends.
And as I grew older, and met more and more people along the way, I had heard, and even made up even more stories. Some tales here, as you can guess, are as old as the first fire, while others might be new to you, and others still, might actually bring a sense of shock at what I had come up with.
If there is a source to the tale you read, you will find at the bottom, in the authors notes, where I had heard the tale from, and where they say it had come from, although, some of these stories might be so global, that a source might be impossible.
I don't wish to give off cheep thrills, or jump scares if I can avoid them, nor am I out to tell a slashfic where the scares are gore for the sake of gore. Sorry everyone, but the things that I put down here, are things that I find scary in some way or another, which I think is a quieter kind of fear. The kind that when surrounded by others, you might feel silly. But when you find yourself alone at night, unable to sleep, when those thoughts of not quite being alone begin to seep into your mind. The quiet fear, the feeling that something isn't quite right in the darkest corner of your closet.
This collection of stories is lovingly dedicated to my Mom, may she rest in peace, my Oma, may she also rest in peace, and the living members of my clan, Emerald Shadows, my brother, T.H., my cousin, and R.U., my dad. Names of course abbreviated to protect the innocent without internet identities to hide behind.
With these formalities out of the way, I would now like to invite you, to sit back, lay down, do whatever it is you like to do to get comfortable, turn down the lights and shut your closet door. Dim the brightness of your screen if you can, and please enjoy the stories as they come. Thank you very much.
Sincerely yours,
Phoenix Quill